


Your Florence Nightingale

by ShowMeAHero



Category: Frankenstein & Related Fandoms, Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, sleepy henry, worrywart victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry catches the flu, and Victor does not exactly handle it well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Florence Nightingale

**Author's Note:**

> My prompt was essentially an ask that Izzy received ([which you can see here](http://izzychao.tumblr.com/post/98745431388/no-but-when-henry-gets-sick-victor-tries-to-take-care)), but the song "Doctor's Orders" from the musical 'Catch Me If You Can' didn't help, either.

Usually, when Victor got back to their room after showering down the hall, Henry was already dressed and ready to go get breakfast with him. Henry always showered at night, so he could sleep longer in the morning, but Victor could never wake up in the morning without it. Today, however, when he pushed the door open, Henry was still in bed, his arm flung over his eyes. Victor shut the door softly behind him.

“Are you awake?” Victor asked quietly, opening his closet door and flinging his towel over the back of his desk chair to dry. Henry turned his head to the side and lifted his arm slightly, peeking at Victor as he dressed.

“I’m up,” Henry murmured. He dropped his arm to the side. “I don’t feel great today. I probably won’t go to class.”

“What’s wrong?” Victor demanded, abandoning his shirt and crossing to Henry’s bed in his bare feet and jeans. He pressed the back of his hand to Henry’s forehead. “You’re hot.”

“Thanks,” Henry joked. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Stop that,” Victor scolded. He touched the backs of his hands to Henry’s cheeks.

“I think I need a doctor,” Henry continued anyways, grinning up at Victor. “Are you available, by any chance?”

“I’m not that kind of doctor, Clerval, and you know it,” Victor muttered, trying desperately to will away the blush he could feel rising up his neck. “You’re burning up, you must’ve caught something.”

“I’m fine, Victor, really,” Henry insisted, moving to sit up before he leaned over and vomited over the side of the bed. Victor hurriedly gathered up his hair and held it above his head.

“You very clearly are not fine,” Victor commented when Henry had stopped and was hanging over the edge of his head, breathing heavily.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Victor-”

“Stop,” Victor interrupted, tying Henry’s hair up into a loose bun. “You’re going to be alright, just- Hold on.” Victor helped Henry to lay back down against his pillows. “I’m going to be right back, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Henry agreed weakly. Victor hurried to the bathroom down the hall, wet two squares of paper towels, and rushed back to press one against Henry’s forehead.

“You’re going to be alright,” Victor promised again, running the other paper towel across Henry’s mouth. “It’s okay.”

“Victor, you’ve got to calm down,” Henry murmured, opening one eye to look at Victor. “I’m going to be fine.”

Silence.

“I’ve got a Swiffer mop,” Victor blurted. Henry sighed. Victor dropped the now-warm towels in the trash bin under his bed and grabbed the mop from his open closet. Henry watched, exasperated, as Victor attempted to Swiffer mop the floor, failed, and ended up asking the two sanitation ladies in the hallway for help. Henry just pulled the covers up over his head and waited until everybody was gone.

“I’m going to go get medicine from CVS,” Victor told him once the sanitation women left. He tugged a sweatshirt over his head, then pressed his lips to Henry’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

“Victor-”

“Get some rest,” Victor continued, as though Henry had not even spoken. To be fair, though, Victor likely had not heard him. “I’ll be right back. I will- Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

Victor grabbed his wallet, keys, and phone off his desk and left, the door shutting softly behind him. Henry groaned, falling back against the mattress again. He pulled the quilt at his feet up around his shoulders and fell into a fitful sleep. He stayed in the restless half-sleep until the door opened again less than twenty minutes later and Victor came back with his CVS bags.

“You can’t have so many blankets,” Victor exclaimed immediately, putting his bags down in the doorway and hurrying to pull Henry’s quilt back to the end of the bed. Henry sighed heavily and sat up halfway.

“I thought you’re supposed to sweat out fevers,” Henry mumbled, running a hand over his face and coughing. Victor frowned at him.

“No, you’re not, that’s an old wives’ tale. You’re supposed to wear as little as possible to keep from overheating,” Victor explained, running a hand over the top of Henry’s head. “Are you cold? Do you have chills? That’s probably not good, right, if you-”

“Calm down, I’m fine,” Henry interrupted, turning to bury his face in his pillow. “Did you get medicine?”

“I didn’t know which one to get, and I was in a rush, so I got a few and you can pick one,” Victor informed him, returning to the doorway to grab the CVS bags. As Victor handed him his medication, Henry sneezed, and Victor reached into one of the bags and tossed him a pack of tissues. Henry sat up at once.

“What else did you get?” Henry asked warily. Victor upturned the bags on his own bed. Henry groaned loudly. “Victor, what the _hell_.”

“I didn’t know what to get!” Victor defended. He pulled out one of the water bottles and unscrewed the top before handing it to Henry. Henry accepted it and took his medication, still watching Victor cautiously. “Stay hydrated, please, okay?”

“I will, but, Victor-”

“I got angelica root and honey, too, so I can make you tea to try and keep your fever down.”

“Thank you, Victor, but I-”

“I got a can of chicken soup, because I know you’re supposed to have that when you’re sick, and I called Elizabeth, and _she_ said you might need ginger, so I-”

“ _Victor_ ,” Henry cut in, and Victor finally looked up. “I just need some rest right now. Okay? You’re freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Victor argued automatically. Henry shuffled to one side of his extra-long twin bed and motioned for Victor to come over.

“I’d be worried about you getting sick, but it’s either happening or it’s not at this point,” Henry murmured, reaching out and wrapping his slim fingers around Victor’s wrist once he was close enough. “Come on, get in.”

“But I-”

“Victor,” Henry said firmly, pulling back the thin sheet he was under. Victor tugged off his shoes, jeans, and sweatshirt, leaving him in his underwear and undershirt as he climbed into bed beside Henry. His feet dangled off the end as Henry threw the sheet over him and tucked himself in close to Victor’s side, letting his head rest on Victor’s shoulder as his arm wrapped around his waist.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Victor asked softly. Henry shut his eyes.

“Just let me get some rest,” Henry replied, his voice muffled by Victor’s skin.

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Victor spoke again.

“I’m sorry if I overreacted.”

“That’s okay,” Henry assured him, voice slurred in his half-asleep state. Victor must not have gotten the non-drowsy medication, or maybe his presence was helping him fall asleep. In any case, Henry was grateful. “I love that about you. You get all worried over nothing.”

“Henry, it’s not _nothing_ , it’s definitely-”

“Victor.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Shh_.”

“Yeah, okay,” Victor agreed softly, pulling Henry a little closer. He dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Henry murmured, smiling as he turned his face more fully into Victor’s neck and yawned. Victor pulled the quilt up to tuck it around Henry’s shoulders. Silence reigned again, and Henry was almost entirely asleep this time when-

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you soup or tea or-”

“Go to sleep, Victor.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
